My father was a writer. He wrote all of his life, inflicting upon many of us his novels, plays, articles, essays, and self-help books. Some were marvelous; some merely well-intentioned. But of all the things he wrote, his journal is his legacy: by turns wise and bewildering, it neared 1,100 type-written pages when he died in 2010. Although perused many times, this is the first time it will be read - cover to cover, page after page.
Thursday, April 2, 2015
Misunderstanding
The young man asked and Jesus responded, and because he did and because the man wanted to hear even more, Jesus may have thought he was also agreeing. Perhaps he did, but in the end the man went away. Maybe his understanding had been only of the words. Maybe the young man's sadness was as great as Jesus' own at what might have been, but in that moment could not be.
Labels:
agreement,
interpretations,
Jesus,
misunderstanding,
questions,
sadness,
scripture,
words
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